I drew the blankets over my head and tried to think of Christmas. But the grey face still followed me. It murmured, and I understood that it desired to confess something. I felt my soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there again I found it waiting for me.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1096 | 2016-04-11 13:09:26 | 70.77 | 96% |
| 455 | 2016-02-24 23:57:22 | 60.85 | 86% |